


in dreams i sing to the moon

by cthulu_sun



Category: Green Creek Series - T.J. Klune
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 16:16:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16391012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cthulu_sun/pseuds/cthulu_sun
Summary: Gordo leaves Green Creek early. He returns with no memories of wolves and the Bennetts.(And yet, somehow, they still manage to find him).





	in dreams i sing to the moon

Everyone knows the story of Robert Livingstone. 

(He's the monster, the shadow, the ghost that sinks its claws into your skin and haunts your bones until they crumble to dust).

You do not remember much of your father.

He's locked away, rotting in a cell in the middle of nowhere, and you do not remember much of him at all but there is a raven burned into your skin to remind you that there is no escaping him.

Nobody knows the story of Catherine Livingstone.

She's not a ghost story, not exactly, but she took you from the dripping red hands of your father and disappeared, hid you as far away as she could.

(But there was a calling in your bones, and you returned).

//

It's Ox, who tells you first. Quiet, hard-working Ox who says he met a boy and it was weird and there's a family in  _that house_ now, the empty one, and something in you thinks  _no,_ thinks  _wrong,_ thinks  _blue._

(It is in you and you do not know it and so it is ignored).

The Bennetts seem determined to be noticed. They've planted themselves firmly in Ox's life and soon anything anyone can talk about is the strange family that smiles with knives instead of teeth and sings to the moon.

Rico (and Rico knows everyone, so of course he knows them) says they're suspiciously close, for a family. There's six of them: three boys, Carter, Kelly, and Joe; their (apparently very attractive) mother, Elizabeth; Thomas, and another man that Rico hasn't met.

_Thomas._ You think you knew a Thomas once, kind and wise and prone to carrying the world on his shoulders. You can't remember what happened to him. Probably moved away. Most people leave Green Creek, eventually.

//

Chris, surprisingly, is the first one (other than Ox), to receive an invitation, on the second of October.

Ox had brought it with him, to the shop, orange ink on black card, with a little wolf drawn in one corner. The sight of it makes your raven itch.

Yours comes in the form of a man at your door with an easy, uplifting smile and blue eyes that remind you, uncomfortably, of  _something_ ; the sky or the sea or a twelfth birthday with your mother and a crooked wooden raven, standing on the table.

"I'm Mark," the man says to you, and somehow it sounds hushed and guilty, like a secret. He's weird, they're all weird, but he's almost unbearably attractive. "This is for you."

You take the invitation, look at it and wonder  _why._  Wonder how you got noticed so quickly. 

"I'm Gordo," you say, because it's polite, and then he's leaving before you can say anything else. 

(The Bennetts are throwing a party, for halloween. And maybe they've invited half the town but it's not that many, really, and Ox is excited, so you're going. As if you had a choice).

//

"What the  _fuck._ "

It's two weeks later, and Rico has slapped a pointed witch hat on your head and Tanner's holding a broomstick and they must think they're  _hilarious._

"I hate you," you say. For this, it's almost, nearly, true - you may have the lessons of your father permanently burned into your skin but it's not like that. Not like you can use the magic with any kind of ease. 

"Shut up, you love us," Rico says, laughing.

"At least you don't have to think of a costume," Chris points out, also laughing, the  _traitor._

Tanner drops the broomstick and starts rummaging through your closet. You half-heartedly protest but they've all seen exactly what's in there, and none of them care. Much. He pulls out one of your favourite dresses, black and lacy and a bit snug in the shoulders but pretty. 

"You could wear this with it, see?" he says, holding it up against your body.

"Fuck off, no," you tell him immediately.

"You'd look great, though," he argues, and contorts his face into a pouting expression.

"Yeah, Mark'll be all over you," Rico agrees, and your blood freezes in your veins.

"No. We're not going there."

"What, you're gonna talk about him for ages and not even  _make a move?_ Who are you?"

"Shut up," you say, but it is a nice dress, and there are those new shoes, too, that'd go so well - "Fine. Whatever, I'll wear it. Assholes."

//

The Bennett's house feels strangely familiar, like you've been there before, but you  _know_ you haven't. (You'd remember a house like this). Rico rings the doorbell and Ox opens the door, dressed as a wolf.

(It unsettles you, to see it, but you can't explain why. A voice like your mother's says  _don't trust the wolves_ ).

Everyone's in the garden, where there are long tables set up, some with pumpkins, some with cookies, some with food. Rico makes a beeline for the food, dragging you with him, and proceeds to shove pumpkin pie in your face.

At the pumpkin carving table you somehow end up next to Mark and the two of you are supposed to be working together, apparently. You start, drawing a typical face on the pumpkin, in pencil.

"No," Mark says, putting his hand on top of yours to make you stop. (You steadily ignore the way his touch feels like dipping your fingers into a sunlit sea). "You should make it happy."

"What?"

He takes the pencil from you and scribbles over the jagged teeth you'd given it, emphasising the smile and softening its edges. "She deserves to be happy," he tells you.

"She?'

"Her name is Clarence."

"You know pumpkins are  _meant_ to be scary, right?" Thomas cuts in, while Elizabeth giggles. They're on the other side of Mark, carefully hacking into their pumpkin.

Mark sticks his tongue out. "Ours'll still look better than yours."

"My wife's an artist," Thomas reminds him, a hint of pride in his voice. You're starting to think maybe you understand why Ox is so enamoured with this family.

You don't argue with his idea (because what good would it do) and when the two of you are finished Clarence does look pretty happy.

The rest of the day passes in something of a blur, of laughter and music and activity, and through it all Mark sticks to your side. Before you leave he gives you Clarence and a phone number, blushing. (And  _maybe_ your friends are yelling in the background and you're hardly at your most talkative, but you had a good time, and it was fun).

//

That night you dream of a black and white wolf, and strangely you're not afraid. It crashes into you, knocks you over, and stands on your chest, nosing at your arm. The magic one.

The wolf throws its head back and  _howls,_ a song that says  _I miss you_ and  _where did you go_ and  _come home._

(You think you knew a Thomas, once. A slip of a memory that keeps sliding out of reach.

_Don't trust them,_ your mother says, pale and ash and dying.

Above you, the moon listens).

The wolf disappears and it is your father standing over you, drenched in blood, and he punches a hole through your chest.

Then there is nothing, save for a low humming in your ears.  _Forget,_ it says.  _Forget, forget, forget._

(Love and pack and dirt and leaves and rain.

_Gordo,_ says a voice.

For a bright, wonderful moment, the moon sings back -

and with sudden, startling, clarity, you  _remember_ ).

//

Your first thought is there were so many of them, and they're so  _small_ now, and what could have happened. 

(Your second is of a boy who thinks you smell like dirt and leaves and rain, and you realise he  _knew._ He must have known. There is a little wooden raven on your bookshelf and you think you know where it came from, now).

You go to the house, in the morning, and as Thomas answers you throw your arms around him and hold him tightly. "I'm sorry," you say, because you left and something happened and they're gone, so many people just gone, and you weren't there to mourn them.

(The raven spreads its wings. Takes flight).

Thomas understands, because Thomas always does. "It's okay," he tells you, and the way he sounds makes you want to believe him. "You're here now."

You pull away and wipe at your eyes and he just smiles at you, and you are calm. At peace.

"Gordo?" Asks a voice, floating down the hall, and you follow it. You stumble into Mark, and he reaches out to steady you, and the world  _spins._

( _It's okay,_ you think, in the safety of his arms.  _I'm here now._

"Did you get my raven?" He asks.

"Yes."

"Good. I made it for you."

Oh.  _Oh._ That's why it's not quite perfect.

_God damn you, Mark Bennett,_ you think, because you missed him and this is too much. You feel dizzy.

"Go on a date with me," he says. Maybe it's supposed to be a question, but you guess it doesn't have to be, because you would have said yes regardless.

"Yeah," you say anyway. "Of course.")

//

Here is a truth: everybody knows the story you like to tell the most, because you love him too much to keep quiet.

Sometimes, on full moon nights, you sing. It's a thank you, mostly. An acknowledgement.

(Sometimes, the moon sings back to you).


End file.
